


Supercute, supercat, got no time for photographs, watch out!

by budchick



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cat Harry, Friendship, M/M, Romance, Slash, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-15 14:19:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3450248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/budchick/pseuds/budchick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter is not a boy. He's a cat. He's a cat that can sometimes turn into a boy, not the reverse, please get it right, thank you. ... (Look, little Tom Riddle with a cat is supercute, okay?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue.

:::

"Is it just me," Amy Benson asked, "Or has that cat been staring at us since forever?"

Dennis Bishop looked behind her, and yes, there was a black cat with eerie green eyes sunning itself on the street. It noticed him looking and gave him a slow cat-smile.

He turned away, visibly disturbed.

They ran back to tell Mrs Cole. She didn't believe either of them when they told her about it, but after a lot of begging, Mrs Cole promised to come out and take a look at it. "Shoo, cat, shoo!" she said, and it ran away.

"What a strange cat it is," she said sarcastically. "Has Tom been telling you stories again?" They shook their heads - no one spoke to Tom if they could help it.

It was back there again the next morning.

:::

Chapter 1.

:::

"There you are," Petunia said. "We're going to London tomorrow, so you need to pack your things by tonight."

Harry shook the grass from his hair. There was dirt smudged all over his face, hands and feet, but he'd wash up later. "Why are we going to London?"

"That's where you're going to school. Here's your ticket. If you want any questions answered, don't talk to me," Aunt Petunia said, and walked back into the house.

She gave him a ticket that said station 9 and 3/4's. There was an accompanying letter saying 'Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry' and a copy of a note that said 'Yes, he's going, stop sending your bloody owls already!' Witchcraft, he wondered. Owls? Robes? Wands? Cauldrons? Harry scanned the letter - he didn't have any of the things on the list, but he never usually had the items for school anyway. He'd have to borrow from the teachers again.

Harry began to grin with delight. His hands were shaking with excitement. After summer, he'd always had to go back to the same boring routine as usual, but this - this was starting to sound like a new adventure quest for yours truly. Collecting information! Finding resources! Evading enemies! An adventure into the unknown was always the best kind of adventure, and it was the sort of thing he excelled in.

"Thank you, Aunt Petunia!" he yelled, running to his cupboard. Best. Belated. Birthday-present. Ever.

:::

Harry was magic. It wasn't a new fact - Harry had known this already, and it felt like he'd known this forever, but there was always the possibility that his cat-adventures were really just very vivid comas that lasted three months. It wasn't until he got his Hogwarts letter that he could finally confirm that yes - he was magic.

As a younger boy, he had tried to question his teachers about his special ability several times. When he asked 'what animal do you turn into?', they would say 'I would like to turn into a lion, or a wolf, or a pigeon, or a crab.' He would repeat his question - 'but what animal do you actually turn into?' and they would correct his word choice - 'what animal would you actually 'like' to turn into, don't forget the 'like', Harry.'

He tried to explain further. He told all of them about his little cat-adventures; about how he really was a kitten named Lightning, and he told them about Sarah, the lovely young girl in petticoats and stockings who liked to feed him and wrap him in fur coats. It was her - not the teachers - who'd taught him how to read. They all smiled at him, told him he had a very good imagination or interesting dreams, and wrote 'child has a minor obsession with cats' in all their report letters back home. The Dursleys never read those.

Eventually, Harry would come to the conclusion that all his teachers were stupid. It explained why they still tried to ask him where his summer homework was after he clearly explained that he'd had cat paws and so, wouldn't have been able to complete it, and it also explained why they didn't seem to realise that Harry did all of Dudley's homework during the term.

It wasn't just the teachers though. The Dursleys didn't seem to realise that he disappeared for three months of every year either. After the third moon, Harry would find himself back in the Dursley's lawn, and Aunt Petunia would let him inside the house and tell him to do dishes without asking any questions.

It was an epidemic. Harry vowed to never become that stupid. He did realise though, that if the other children were learning how to do things in the summer, he'd better find a way to do them too or he'd fall behind.

:::

The cat appeared outside Tom's window one day. It was a black cat, with a distinctive white bit of fur shaped like a lightning bolt on its head, and Tom only knew about it because he'd overheard two of his neighbours talking about it during breakfast. Apparently it'd been spotted in various places around the orphanage for about a week.

It disappeared before dinner and Tom dismissed his sighting of the cat. Cats weren't very important to him. Instead, he took out the 'Magical Theory' book he'd bought second-hand from Diagon Alley and began to read that for leisure. The dinner bell rang, interrupting Tom in the middle of a chapter, and he was forced to stop his reading to grab food.

When Tom got back, the cat was on his bed, looking at his textbook and apparently absorbed by the wand-movements for Alohomora.

Tom silently pulled out the bread-knife he'd hidden underneath a plank of wood, and slowly crept towards the cat - because if it was stupid enough to pick his room out of all others, it was practically begging for it - and then saw the cat use its paw to flick the page.

"What," Tom said, because that was not normal cat behaviour. He hissed at Nagini to go and bite it. The cat hissed right back at his snake.

'Cat is not tasty', it'd said. 'Tell master.' Nagini nodded and repeated the cat's words at Tom.

Tom thought about what to do next. Although he found the thought of a talking cat strangely odd, he knew he'd been talking to the snakes and they'd been talking back to him for the longest of times. With the discovery of magic and Professor Dumbledore's recent trip to the orphanage, Tom knew logically that there had to be other odder things in the world. He only found it strange because the neighbourhood cats had never talked to him before - or maybe it was that he wasn't able to understand them before. He had to check first.

"You can talk?" he asked the cat. The cat looked up, as in in surprise, and meowed something in a questioning sort of tone at Tom.

"Don't play games with me," Tom said, a little bit angry now. "You just told Nagini not to bite you!"

The cat quirked it's head and considered Tom for a moment. Then it began hissing again. 'It's because I can talk to snakes. I speak their language as well,' it said. 'Do you know that language? Can you understand me?'

Tom stared for a moment. There was his confirmation.

"So you are - a cat that can talk to snakes."

'You can understand me!' it replied, doing a happy little wiggle. 'And yes, the snakes and I have been friends for the longest of times.'

Tom threw a look at Nagini. She gave the snake equivalent of a small shrug. 'Is true,' she told him. 'Cat knows human-speak as well. Knows tricksy words. Cat tells snakes when humans are coming. Master is not always there.'

'Sorry, I didn't realise you were speaking snake. It all sounds like English to me, you see.' the cat added, apologetically.

"And does a cat understand magic as well," Tom said, waving a hand at his textbooks. "I find that a little harder to believe."

'That's because I'm not always a cat. Sometimes I'm a boy too. But I'm mostly a cat, just a cat-who-can-turn-into-a-boy. I saw Professor Dumbledore walk in here, and I knew, I knew that one of the children had to be magical like me, but I wasn't sure which one,' it replied.

'I can't turn back during the summer, but I need to get the summer reading done, or Professor Snape will kill me. He really will.'

Ah. That made more sense. Tom reluctantly put the knife away; he'd always wanted to see inside a cat, but that would have to wait until he caught one of the neighbourhood ones, he supposed.

"You can read the books while I'm not here," Tom said, crawling onto his bed. "But you'll have to tell me all about Hogwarts in return."

The cat nodded and waved its tail. 'Fine by me.'

:::

The house at number four, Privet drive, Surrey Hills was normally just as plain and as ordinary as any other that might've existed on the street, but today, it was being watched carefully by people who seemed to be celebrating an early Halloween.

"I can't see him," Professor McGonagall said. "Has anyone seen him outside all day?"

Fred and George had come and visited the Dursleys after Ron and Hermione complained that Harry hadn't written a single response to any of their many letters. After half an hour of circling the house in their borrowed car, they'd tried to sneak into the house. They didn't find him. The Dursleys told them that Harry wasn't home, and if they caught the twins sneaking through their house again, they'd call the muggle police.

After that, Fred and George had gone straight to their mother, and then Professor McGonagall.

It turned out that Headmaster Dumbledore had a contact who lived nearby; a squib by the name of Mrs Figgs. She said that she hadn't seen hair or hide of him all summer. When Dumbledore heard, he cut short his meeting with the Flamels, intent on paying a personal visit to the household.

Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, Sprout and Hagrid all did a thorough sweep of the house. Aside from finding a few old clothes and a mattress underneath the cupboard, there was no sign that Harry had been in the house at all.

"Where is Harry Potter?" Professor Snape was shaking the thread-bare and blood-spotted blanket they'd found inside the cupboard at Petunia Dursley. "If he turns up dead—"

Petunia replied, voice sharp and bitter. "Isn't he with the rest of you freaks?"

"No," Professor McGonagall replied slowly. "No, he isn't with 'the rest of us freaks'."

"He disappears for three months every year. Not our business what devil hooligans he gets up to," Vernon interceded.

The professors looked at each other.

:::


	2. Chapter 2

:::

"Dennis, I know you've got money hidden under your bed," Tom was saying, in a low, calm voice. "Give it to me."

Dennis shook with fear. Even then, he was brave enough to shake his head 'no'. "I saved it up fair and square Riddle, and you don't get to take that from me."

Tom Riddle tutted. "Do you remember what happened to Billy Stubbs? Do you need me to remind you?"

Dennis went and withdrew six shillings from underneath the bed sheets. Tom's expression turned a complete one-hundred-and-eighty degrees. "There we go, that's a good boy," he smiled. "Is that cheese I see on your table?"

Dennis gave Tom three pieces out of six. "And some for my cat, as well." A shaky hand put one piece on the floor, where Harry was looking up at Tom with the most disapproving expression his cat face could express. Tom side-eyed Harry, and picked up the piece on the floor.

"Lightning! With me," Tom said, and walked off. Harry heaved one great sigh, and followed with his tail held up in the air.

'You didn't have to do that,' Harry hissed. 'That was cruel.'

"You're expensive to feed," Tom replied. "Would you rather starve?"

'I can go out and find other food,' Harry said. 'I can hunt mice and birds. Sarah, my first master, used to let me hunt the mice in her basement, and I killed those and brought them back for her. I'm sure I could find another person who would give me scraps like her—'

"I'm your master now," Tom said, clear and firm. "And you're not to go off the orphanage grounds. You're definitely not to go up to other people. What if the cat-catchers found you, Lightning? What if a carriage ran you over?"

'I survived fine before I met you, you know,' Harry said wryly. 'I do look both ways before crossing.'

Tom responded by scooping Harry up and rubbing his ears. Cheat, Harry thought, but he let Tom rub his head and carry him into his room. Tom fed him his piece of cheese from his fingers, and then gave him two of Tom's pieces as well.

'But what you just did to Dennis,' Harry said, purring belly-up on Tom's lap. 'It's not going to get you any friends.'

"Like I want to be friends with the rest of this trash," Tom replied, scratching Harry's stomach. Harry was cognizant enough to think 'that attitude sounds like trouble,' but he digressed.

"Your Hermione though, she sounds like a smart witch," Tom told him, lying down in his bed. "And Ron can't be awful if his chess ability is as great as you make it out to be. You sound as though you have the most amazing adventures – tell me how you defeated Professor Quirrel again."

Harry did. He recounted all of his adventures, starting from meeting Ron on the train to going across the lake in boats. He talked about meeting the giant squid and seeing the castle in the distance and Professor Snape's horrible early exam questions. He talked about how he met Hermione when the troll entered the girl's bathroom and how they put all the clues together to figure out what was guarding the Philosopher's stone.

Harry even talked about finally facing his arch-nemesis – the Dark Lord – who had been hidden on the back of Professor Quirrel's head, but never once did he name the Dark Lord. Tom would find out who he was eventually.

'It is the best bed-time story, isn't it?' Harry concluded. 'I can't wait until I see you at the Sorting. But don't be surprised when I tell you who I am – I look a bit different when I'm a boy.'

He waited for a reply, but when none came, Harry peeked up from underneath Tom's arm. Tom was already asleep.

:::

'I'm still a cat,' Harry said, surprised, when it came to the day they were to go onto the Hogwarts Express. 'Normally I turn into a boy on the day before!'

Tom wasn't concerned. "It's fine. I can carry you to King's Cross station in my backpack."

They had to make their way there through catching a series of buses and with a lot of hiking. Harry wasn't sure, but there was something very strange about the clothes that the people were wearing, and about the buses that they were catching. Harry hadn't really noticed before, because he'd lived with Sarah for most of his early childhood, and she'd been rich – he never left her manor house until one summer he came back and found it empty. After that, he'd gone straight to the orphanage.

It might just be the location though. Surrey buses were bound to be different to London buses. Maybe London had a particular sort of fashion that people liked to adhere to.

"I suppose you know how to get to platform 9 and ¾'s?" Tom asked, looking once more at his ticket. Harry jumped out of the backpack and stretched his legs.

'I'll walk with you there,' the cat said. 'Remember, it's easier if you run through the wall.'

They made it through the barrier, and Tom got his first look at the busy Wizarding station. There were many people rushing around – students moving their trunks on the train, prefects bossing people around, and parents who were dropping off their children, hugging them or waving goodbye to them through the train window.

'Well, there's the train,' Harry pointed with his tail. Tom picked Harry up again. 'Someone will run you over, otherwise.'

They stood in silence, looking up at the great monolith of the train.

"Do you want to get onto the Hogwarts Express?" Tom said, finally. "When does your magic turn you back into a boy?"

'When does my magic turn me 'into' a boy, not 'back into' a boy,' Harry corrected him. 'I don't know when it happens, it just does. You should get on first, I think. We're in different years; it'll give you a chance to make friends in your own year.'

"When will I see you?"

'I'm sure you'll see me again in a few hours. I'll try not to miss your sorting, that's very important.'

Tom made a non-committal sound.

'You'll be fine,' Harry said. 'You're brilliant, you're the one who ended up explaining all of the magical concepts to me.'

"Did I look like I needed reassurance," Tom asked softly.

Harry laughed, flailing about in Tom's arms. "Lightning! Would you stop that?" People were looking at him now, the boy who was talking to and trying to control his epileptic cat. He let Harry drop to the floor in disgust; Harry continued laughing and started rolling around on the concrete.

"Right. I'm going," Tom decided. "And you're not coming with me, until you're human again. Otherwise - everyone's going to think that I'm crazy before I even make it to Hogwarts!"

"You kind of are," Harry replied, in between bits of cat-laughter. "But it's been alright so far. I'll see you around Tom."

He watched as Tom stepped onto the train with his trunk and his backpack. When Tom disappeared from his line of sight, Harry climbed on top of a statue so that he could continue watching his master through the windows. He looked on as Tom found a seat amongst some other first years, thinking about how he met Hermione and Ron, and resolved to introduce the two of them to Tom as soon as possible.

You will get along so well with Hermione, Harry thought to himself. They were the smartest people Harry knew.

There were other people waiting at the station; parents, younger siblings that couldn't go to Hogwarts yet, friends and guardians and grandmoms and granddads.

Tom didn't have any of those people waiting for him. So there was no reason for him to look back out the window as the train was leaving, and wave goodbye.

He did that anyway.

:::

Harry fell asleep in an alley that night, bitterly disappointed that he would miss Tom's sorting afterall, and then woke up in the morning in Aunt Petunia's garden, as per usual. He noticed his pink fingers again and made for his cupboard, only for an alarm to be set off as soon as he touched the doorknob.

"What in the blazes," Harry yelled, hands going to his ears. There was a series of popping noises, and within the space of a minute, six wizards in a red uniform up and stupefied him on the spot.

That was the last he'd seen of Privet Drive that summer.

Harry was brought straight to Hogwarts. He asked if he'd missed the sorting, and Professor McGonagall said he had. Harry then asked her what house Tom had made it into, and Professor McGonagall asked 'Tom who?'

That was when he realised he didn't know Tom's last name. Last names weren't important for cats.

He couldn't find Tom. But between evading through all the Professors' questions on exactly where he had been all summer 'we had missing child posters for you!', and what exactly he had been doing 'we put your picture on the back of milk cartons!', Harry was also knee-deep in another mystery. He was forced to put the issue of Tom on the back-burner for now, but Harry wanted to make sure that when he came back as a cat next summer – he would have another adventure to amaze Tom with.

:::

The Chamber of Secrets debacle was interesting.

'Let me show you what happened fifty years ago,' Tom Riddle's diary said, and when it sucked him in, Harry's heart skipped a beat.

"Tom?" he yelled, looking at a face he hadn't seen in months. The face was a little older; his hair was neater, his cheekbones were sharper, and something about the quality of his eyes had changed – but Tom would've had to do a lot more before he was unrecognisable to Harry. "Merlin, is that you?"

The memory around him stopped and fizzled into white. "Do I know you," Tom Riddle asked.

Harry laughed. "We met last summer! Don't tell me you've forgotten me!" Harry pulled up his fringe and spun to show Tom the lightning scar. "Guess who," he teased.

"You," Tom said, shocked. "You're Lightning. Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived."

Harry gave him his best cat smile. "I told you I looked different as a boy."

When Tom still didn't say anything, Harry got worried.

"We went down to the river together. Don't you remember? You got me cheese, and I got you a bird, and you said it was disgusting and left it on Amy's bed. I felt bad I got you locked up in the attic and I stayed there with you the whole time."

There was still something wrong with this picture. Harry frowned. "You were eleven when I last saw you. Do you remember?"

Tom looked at him and touched his face.

"I do."

:::

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Yes, I'm doing the obligatory catfic that every slash writer does. Yes, I've had this since forever. Yes, I know it's embarrassing. XP


End file.
